Warriors of the Western Sea
by Valery Waralic
Summary: The Equalists, despite Amon's destruction, seem to be gaining power. Non-benders are becoming angry. Two mysterious operatives are hired by an equally-mysterious client to search for the Avatar in the south pole. Possibly some shipping will happen. This summary sucks.
1. Chapter 1

Dim blue lights flickered overhead, casting their eerie glow onto the walls. The brown stone was pitted and rocks jut out at awkward angles. Boot heels clicked briskly on the dull metal floor, echoing along the long dark corridor. The youngest guard sneezed from the brick dust. Tycho trifled with his pocketwatch, flicking it open and then closing it with a sharp snap. The chain jingled in time with his easy gait. Only the soft _pop_ and loud _click_ of the pocketwatch told Mesari that he partner was nervous.

_Though,_ she admitted, _probably not as nervous as me._ She exhaled, eyeing the triad of guards who escorted them through the underground labyrinth. She and Tycho had come of their own accord, but she couldn't shake the nagging feeling that they were prisoners.

"Any of you gentlemen have a light?" Tycho asked, reaching gingerly into his pocket and drawing out a cigarette. He rolled it between his forefinger and thumb for a brief moment while one of the guards fumbled a matchbook from his vest. Tycho nodded his thanks to the guard, striking a match and taking a long drag from the black cigarette. He exhaled casually through his nose.

"You're going to have to put that out when we get there," growled the eldest guard. His hand flexed on his baton, his brow creasing with annoyance. Tycho barely paid him mind, taking another drag with his eyes closed.

Ahead, the corridor narrowed. The eldest guard went first, followed by Tycho and Mesari, and the other two brought up the rear. _They don't want to turn their backs to us,_ Mesari thought, noticing how the guards watched her hands closely.

Abruptly, the group stopped. Mesari, nearly receiving Tycho's shoulder to her nose, balked into the guard behind her. He yelped, jumping back into the stone wall. Blushing, Mesari mumbled an apology. A door in the wall opened, washing the corridor with light. The eldest guard glared at Mesari and motioned for her to follow Tycho inside. She scooted though the doorway, ducking as far away from the guard as she could.

The room was plain and well-lit. The only furniture was a fully-stocked bookcase and a wide table, the latter of which was littered with papers, reports, maps, and Equalist propaganda. At the head of the table stood a broad-shouldered, sallow-faced man. He nodded curtly.

"Master Tycho, Mistress Mesaraus. Welcome," he said, replacing a thin report marked with the Ba Sing Se crest.

"Good morning, General Rafe," Tycho replied. The General regarded them for a moment. He had steely eyes under a dark, hard brow. He reminded Mesari of her father – cool and calculating. He studied them for longer than she was comfortable. Tycho flicked his pocketwatch once.

"You're both waterbenders?" The question surprised them. They nodded.

"Either of you ever been to the Southern Water Tribe?" They shook their heads. Both Mesari and Tycho were city-born, though Tycho was Southern Water Tribe on his mother's side.

"The fee?"

"Briefing report first," Tycho growled. General Rafe lifted another report, this one without a crest. He crossed the room and extended it to Tycho, who handed it off to Mesari. She flipped though it for a few tense moments.

_Equalists reorganizing, the Avatar missing, rumours that she was hiding down with the waterbenders in the south._ This was a deep-cover mission. Expensive, especially since it would require both Tycho and herself. Possibly even a third. Possibly long-term. Expensive. _Very expensive indeed._ Mesari's lips curled in a cruel smile.

"Two thousand," she whispered to Tycho, slipping the report back into his hands. His blue eyes twinkled as she did.

"Ambitious, isn't he?" he replied quietly, smirking. Rafe craned to hear them, his dark brows furrowed.

Mesari cleared her throat.

"You've got quite the operation planned," she probed.

"A ship," Rafe began, "Bound for the Southern Water Tribe and full of waterbenders who had their bending stolen. All of them brimming with the hope that a tribal healer will bring back their bending."

"A noble disguise," Tycho mused.

"A very good one. All it needs now is operatives," Rafe snorted, "The fee?"

"Two thousand." Tycho's voice was firm. The General looked outraged for a moment and Mesari shrunk back, trying to hide subtly behind her partner. The men squared off, Rafe crossing his arms over his chest and Tycho cocking his head to one side, sliding his finger over the cover of the report. He took a step back and moved to tuck the folder under his arm.

"Fifteen hundred now and the other five when you return," Rafe bargained, his steely eyes flashing. Tycho set his jaw, musing. He ran a hand over his short crop of brown hair. It was a fair price, especially since the tedious points of the plan were already done for them.

"Done." He stepped forward, extending his hand. Rafe seemed surprised, but pleasantly so. He shook hands and then clapped Tycho on the shoulder. Mesari regarded the general coldly. He and her partner spoke business for a moment, deciding where the cash drop was to be made and when. Then Tycho turned to leave, pulling Mesari in his wake. As he slid out the door, Rafe called Mesari's name.

"The Avatar is the primary objective," he said, his tone dark, his steely eyes glinting, "But there may be a United Forces general or two with her. I need them too." A smile crossed his lips. Mesari shivered, her brow furrowed. She swallowed a lump in her throat and disappeared from the door. Tycho waited with the guards, cocking a brow at her.

"What was that?" he asked. She shook her head.

_I have no idea._

* * *

__Hope you guys enjoyed the first chapter. It's mostly just set-up, so forgive the boringness. Chapter 2 will be more fun! =)

-Val


	2. Chapter 2

The _Sapphire Star_ was the most beautiful ship that Mesari had ever seen. The graceful wooden hull had been painstakingly carved in the fashion of modern Northern Water Tribe, detailed with depictions of storms, leviathans, lionturtles, and mermaids. A proud bow was carved like a roaring lionotter, rearing up and raking the air with its large talons. Men and women busied themselves drawing lines, fixing riggings, and folding sails. Tycho stood at the stern, speaking with the captain.

On the loading dock, about fifteen former benders were corralled, waiting until they were allowed to board. They milled about, talking amongst themselves, looking relatively lifeless. Their voices were dull and they all had bags under their eyes. They carried all of their possessions on their backs.

_Pathetic,_ Mesari thought as she looked at them, _How could they become so pitiful?_ Waterbenders were traditionally vain creatures – the woman was no exception. She prided herself on her pale skin and sun-kissed dark hair, her icy eyes and the smattering of freckles across her strong nose and cheeks. She smoothed her blue tunic with one delicate hand.

"Oy!" The captain's call drew her attention. She started and spun, cares for the smoothness of her tunic forgotten. "Send them up!" The few crew members who had remained on the dock jumped to their feet and rallied the unbenders with gruff shouts. The commotion sparked some life back into the former benders. They trooped up the ship's loading ramp. Each one regarded Mesari as they passed her, jealousy or fear or interest crossing their faces. She glowered at each of them, disdain curling her lips into a sneer.

"Come on, Sar." Tycho's voice was right in her ear and she turned into the end of the line of unbenders, noticing how the few in the back scooted forward to get away from her. _Pathetic,_ she thought again. Her soft boots felt the sudden rise of the loading ramp and she took a look at the docks as she rose higher, toward the ship's deck. Other ships were loading and unloading, people bartering for passage, traders inspecting goods. Mesari had never left Republic City before, yet she felt only apathy for it. She looked back to the prow of the boat, the snarling jaws of the figurehead. This was better.

"Oy, Mesari," Tycho said, drawing her toward the prow of the boat, away from the unbenders, who were being herded below deck to where they would stay for the voyage, "You're going to be okay down under the decks with them, right?"

"Me?" she growled, "I thought you were staying with them?"

"Captain wants the women confined to one area of the ship," he replied delicately, "Superstitious lot, these sailors."

Mesari swore loudly. She wouldn't stand to be trapped in the pit of the ship with these pathetic unbenders. She snorted.

"I've got to sleep with the crew," Tycho offered, "So you're getting off easy."

The girl swung her head to look at the former benders, then back to face Tycho.

"Change the cut to 60-40," she snapped. Her blue eyes blazed. Tycho shrunk back – if there was one thing that would convince Mesari to do as he asked, it was money. She hoarded the stuff like a dragon. He grimaced and nodded. With that she whirled, following the unbenders into the bowels of the great Water Tribe ship, her belonging bouncing on her back. She followed the dark stairs into a wide room. Support beams broke it into small squares; each square was occupied by two unbenders. There were hammocks to sleep on and pegs to hang bags upon, but little else. She began to search for an unclaimed hammock, nerves making her heart beat faster. An unbender sneered at her as she passed. Finally, she saw a hammock free of occupants and tossed her bag onto it.

"Coming down to sleep with the dogs?"

* * *

Chapter 2 is done! =) Do you guys like it? I wonder who could be speaking!

-Val


	3. Chapter 3

Gold light shone from under the heavy iron door, and with it came cooler air. It wasn't much - certainly not enough to cool the whole cell, no matter how cramped it might be. Brice sat on the metal floor, her face pressed into the crack under the door. Her hair was plastered to her skin with sweat.

Suddenly, a pair of boots stepped in front of her nose. She snorted. A key turned the lock with a sharp _click_, and she scrapped her palms scrambling away from the door. It opened with a grinding noise, and with it came a gust of the cool air. The small room flooded with light.

"Get up," snapped a gruff voice. Immediately her brow furrowed and she opened her mouth to argue, but disuse had reduced her curse to a weak growl. A guard, who was armed with an honorary katana and a set of metalbender cords, stepped inside and grabbed her under one arm, hauling her to her feet.

"Get off!" she protested, trying to jerk her arm free. The guard pulled her through the doorway. Blinking, she stumbled along. "Let me go," she snapped, her voice getting stronger. She dug her heels in. The man had to suppress a laugh as he hauled under-fed and sleep-deprived Brice down a cold corridor. Good thing they only travelled a short distance.

"Bite me and you'll have no teeth," snapped the guard. Brice shrunk back and closed her mouth. Her captor fiddled with a key ring and found the proper key, then stopped at a new door. He unlocked it gingerly and the door yielded, swinging open to reveal a bright, if not poorly-furnished room. There were no windows and only the one door. _Trapped_, Brice thought.

"You may leave us, Captain," said the man who stood near the table. He turned to face Brice, but was looking passed her to the guard. Brice recognized him as General Rafe Iazo, though he looked significantly older than in the pictures she had seen. She crossed her arms.

"Good day?" he asked innocently as the captain closed the door.

"Not so bad," she replied, "A little warm."

"Air conditioning is broken." A smile played on his lips. Brice was not amused.

"Why the fuck am I here?" she spat, advancing toward the General with her fists clenched. Rafe cracked a grin.

"I would like to ask for your help, Brice. I can offer you immunity, protection, money – anything you like. All I need is a name."

"What are you talking about?" Her brow furrowed deeply and her mouth hung agape. _A name for what?_

_ "_The new Equalist leader, of course!" Rafe's grin faded from his yellow face and his grey eyes grew steely. In his hand was a small blue folder, which was stuffed with papers.

"I am _not_ an Equalist," Brice growled.

"According to this, you are," Rafe said, waving the folder.

"It's all lies."

The General set his jaw, his lower lip in a pout. Placing the folder onto a table, he stepped across the room, taking Brice's wrist in his hand. She jerked away and he _tsk_ed, quickly reaching up and taking a handful of her hair. He pulled it, twisting her around. He clasped her wrist in his free hand.

"What is the name of the new leader?" he snarled into her ear. She stamped his toes with her heel. He cursed and jerked her hair, making her cry out.

"Fuck you," she hissed. Her skin crawled and she kicked out again, this time missing her target.

"If that's the game you want to play, I'll be happy to oblige. Enjoy your cell."

* * *

Brice is a BAMF, don't you guys think? =) Let me know!

-Val


End file.
